Collision
by DarkestWolfx
Summary: On their way to a case, Sherlock, John and Lestrade end up in a car accident. Set after a Scandal in Belgravia, but before the Hounds of Baskerville.


Firstly I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favourited and alerted my other Sherlock story and just to quickly say, I have never been in a car accident only read about them in the news and also I don't live in London and have only visited family members, so road details may not be overly exact which is why I made them quite basic.

* * *

Sherlock had been playing his violin and looking out of the window when he suddenly stopped. John looked at him curiously as he lowered his newspaper to look at the detective.

"What's wrong?" He asked curiously.

"Lestrade's here," Sherlock replied, "Alone and on foot."

"I'll go let him in." John said as he put the newspaper down and stood up from his armchair before making his way down the stairs to let the detective inspector in. Sherlock just remained stood where he was until he heard the pairs returning footsteps as they climbed the stairs and at that point, he turned to face the door.

"We've got a case," The detective inspector started, "We'll have to get a taxi though, because I got them to drop me off here, so that I could let you know, but I haven't seen it yet. Well none of us have, because it only just got called it, but- oh you already know."

"No, but I can figure it out," Sherlock replied as he grabbed his coat and scarf, "Come on John." He ordered as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. John walked into the kitchen and grabbed his jacket off of the back of the chair before making his way back to the door where Lestrade and Sherlock stood together waiting. As soon as John joined them they began to make their way down the stairs.

"So what are we looking at?" Sherlock asked Lestrade as they headed downstairs.

"From what we know a murder of a young girl who was believed to be living out on the streets."

"Could it be drugs?" John asked as he shut the door that led to 221B.

"It's possible." Lestrade commented before looking over at Sherlock who had just grabbed them a taxi and finished explaining that they were police.

"I'd have to see the body first." The consulting detective replied as he opened the door to the taxi and climbed in the back, John following him while Lestrade got into the front passenger side.

The drive was relatively quiet and Lestrade relayed to them everything that he knew of the case so far before delving into general talk with John about things like the weather and current girlfriends and wife related things and stories that had come up in the news last night. Sherlock could have joined in at any time had he wished to do so, but he decided instead to look out of the window at the busy London Streets.

Lestrade answered the call and was filling Sally in on their current position and how long they would be when John looked over at him and noticed a car coming towards them and the fact that they seemed to be slowly changing lanes (onto the wrong side of the road,) as they indicated to turn where they couldn't from their current side of the road. The car in front of that one was beginning to slow down and the future of what was about to happen was predictable.

Everything seemed to happen slowly from that point on. John shouted and both Lestrade and Sherlock looked at him before looking at the road where the medic's eyes were leading. The taxi driver looked in his mirror before noticing and after that there was nothing, but the impact of one steel car body hitting into another two with force.

* * *

When John blinked his eyes open he could hear a car alarm. The irritating sound was coming from the crashed car next to them. A moment later – when John hadn't even fully regained full use of his mind – Lestrade turned around to face him and spoke.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah I think so, you?" The doctor enquired back at the inspector.

"I've only just opened my eyes and I'm not a doctor." He replied, but John could tell that the response meant that Lestrade wasn't too badly hurt if at all: which (to be brutally honest,) would be extremely lucky. When John's mind suddenly returned to him only seconds later he found he had no needed use for it as without even thinking of the action he turned to look at Sherlock.

The consulting detective was still unconscious and seemed to be having some trouble breathing. John undid his seatbelt and slid over to be next to him. Quickly he started checking Sherlock's head, neck and back, leaving the pulse for a moment as he knew that Sherlock was breathing, even if he was struggling.

"Lestrade, can you open your door?" He asked as he finished his check and started to time Sherlock's pulse rate. He could tell that Lestrade was moving even before he heard the taxis car door click open.

"Yeah, why?" He asked curiously as he swung his legs round and looked at the out wreckage in front of him.

"We need to get Sherlock out of this car. He's struggling to breathe. I think it's to do with the dust and debris from the crash, but I need to be sure. I need you to help me though." Lestrade got out of the car and opened the back door that led into the taxi. He looked at John before looking at Sherlock.

"Is it safe to move him?" He asked and John could tell why he was.

"Yeah, I've checked his back, head and neck as thoroughly as I could and there doesn't seem to be any damage to any of it. So I'm going to say it is, because breathing is important and if there are any minor injuries it shouldn't affect them."

"Okay, you're the doctor. What do I do?" Lestrade asked and he move forward slightly to be closer to the pair.

"Just help me keep him as still as possible." John replied as he and Lestrade began to negotiate getting out of the taxi. Once they were outside John directed Lestrade to behind the cars were there was a large gap, before a lengthening queue of traffic. Carefully, the pair laid Sherlock down on the ground and John listened as the detective's breathing became easier and let himself breathe a sigh of relief that there had been nothing major wrong that was causing the breathing problems.

"Can you support his head while I put him onto his side, please?" John asked Lestrade nicely, but the detective inspector knew to take it as more of an order than a _'do you mind'_ or _'could you do this' _and so did just that while the doctor laid Sherlock onto his side. Once Sherlock was on his side, John once again looked to Lestrade.

"Phone an ambulance. We'll need one, even if not for us." Lestrade began to phone for an ambulance while John looked over his friend for injuries in the light.

"Will he be alright?" Lestrade asked curiously as he looked at the younger man once he had explained the situation to emergency services and had been reassured that an ambulance and paramedics were n there way.

"He should be," John replied as he picked up Sherlock's left hand, "This is the only superficial injury that I can see which implies he was lucky, all of us were."

"What about the people in the other car. Shouldn't we at least check on them?" Lestrade asked as he looked over at the doctor who was still holding Sherlock's injured hand.

"I don't know," He started, "We should wait for the paramedics and ambulance."

"There's the taxi driver as well though John, surely we should check if he's alright as well."

"Yeah," John stopped seemingly in thought for a second, "But Sherlock's hand if I leave it, it could get infected and I can't just leave him alone, he's unconscious!" The doctor explained to Lestrade in a lower voice town, so that the young man couldn't hear, but yet still trying to get across and keep its importance intact.

"I can look after Sherlock and if I'm in any doubt about anything I'll call you back over," The inspector replied, "We can't just leave all of these people if we could help them."

"That's the response of a police officer." John commented.

"And of a doctor." Lestrade commented back and John knew he was right.

"Okay, I'll do what I can," John answered before giving Lestrade of list of instructions, "Sit where I am. Don't let his hand touch the floor and if he wakes up, don't let him move. If he starts choking call me."

"Got it." Lestrade replied as he moved over to where John was and took the consulting detectives hand as the doctor left and headed over to the taxi driver first who was sat with the door open, looking at the floor: most probably shocked.

"Are you alright?" John asked as he drew level with the driver who looked up at him from the moment he spoke.

"Yeah, just a little shaken you know mate." He explained.

"Are you hurt at all? I'm a doctor, I can help."

"No, I'm fine, I think I escaped most of it," He replied, "Is there anything I can help with? If you're planning on treating people - since you're a doctor - if you want a hand I could help."

"If you don't mind and feel up to it, then that would be great." The pair made their way over to the car. The car that was in front of them, had been hit side on against the front, blocking most of the driver's side and the main bonnet of the car was blocked by the end of the taxi. A young man (no older than twenty,) was stood by it and he looked up when he heard them approach.

"My Dad's stuck in the front and I haven't attempted to get my younger siblings out in case they were injured." The young man filled them in.

"Okay, what's your name?" John asked.

"David." He replied.

"John!" The doctor turned to face Lestrade as he called out to him and panicked for a moment as to Sherlock's well-being, "Ambulance said ETA of two minutes."

"Okay." The medic answered as he began to do what he did best.

* * *

The ambulance arrived a few minutes later and John left the young man and his family with the paramedics that had made their way over. The taxi driver stayed too and John made his way back over to Sherlock and Lestrade, who also had paramedics on their way over to them.

"Are you both alright?" One of them asked as he knelt down beside them.

"Yeah, we're alright." Lestrade replied while looking at John who nodded to show that he too was alright.

"Okay, well I can check you over in the ambulance or when we get into A and E, that's up to you," The paramedic explained before" looking at the still unconscious Sherlock, "Who's this?"

"Sherlock Holmes," John began, "He's a friend. He's been unconscious for ten minutes roughly maybe fifthteen, but I wouldn't say any longer than that. Has been unconscious since the crash, but wasn't before. He had some minor trouble breathing before we moved him out of the car, but that cleared once we were out here and away from the dust and debris that surrounded the taxi, so most likely not any major breathing problems. Cuts on his left hand, one particularly deep one, however we have been watching what his hand came in contact with, so there should hopefully be no risk of infection or at least anything major unless something has already come in contact with his hand before we were aware of the injury."

The paramedic studied John carefully for a moment, "You're a doctor aren't you."

"Yeah." John replied.

"Well, it makes my job easier," He said as he took Sherlock's pulse, "Right, let's get him up on the gurney and we'll get going."

* * *

Sherlock remained unconscious for the rest of the drive to the hospital. John bandaged his hand on the journey and the paramedic made no move to stop him, especially when he saw Lestrade's police id badge. When they arrived at ST Bartholomew's, they headed in the ambulance entrance and the moment they were inside of the hospital, John felt slightly more relaxed than he had before.

The paramedic handed the paper work to a young female nurse who walked over before leaving to return to the ambulance to go on call again.

"What's his name?" The female asked as she looked carefully at the detective after quickly skimming through the brief notes that she had been handed.

"Sherlock," John told her, "His name's Sherlock."

"Sherlock? Sherlock? Can you hear me Sherlock?" The nurse spoke, trying to wake Sherlock from his unconscious state, "Right let's get him into majors nine and if someone could sort these two out that would be great."

"Oh, we're fine," John insisted, "Surely he shouldn't be left without anyone that he knows."

"Why's that?"

"Because he hates hospitals." John explained to the nurse who just looked at him slightly strangely, seeming to think it wasn't a big deal.

"Yeah, you don't want to see what he's like when he wakes up in a hospital with no one there. He panics, won't let you near him, could potentially hurt any of you," Lestrade added, "So it's up to you, but I would recommend calling someone. Next of kin at least."

The nurse sighed, "And who would that be?"

"His older brother, Mycroft Holmes." Lestrade answered before following another nurse, who led him and John towards the triage nurses and doctors who were looking at more minor scale injuries and away from the rest of the casualties that were coming in from the accident.

"Thanks for adding that, I don't think they would have believed me otherwise."

"It's alright. I know just how much of a nightmare Sherlock can be when he's in hospital. I've witnessed it first-hand anyway."

"Wait, you weren't lying?"

"No, not at all." Lestrade replied and John could only think about what Sherlock would be like if Mycroft didn't arrive before he woke up. But then again maybe Mycroft wasn't the best option considering their relationship.

One thing was for sure, someone was going to have a lot to deal with.

* * *

Mycroft made his way through the entrance and only had to flash his id card for them to tell him where to go. They had only called him just under ten minutes ago, but with his position, it took him no time at all to get anywhere, especially when it was something important. Anthea followed behind him as they were led through to where Sherlock was.

His younger brother had a blue blanket over him, which he had had since the paramedics arrived and was still lying on his right side, from when John and Lestrade had moved him out of the car. His left hand couldn't be seen as it was under the blanket, but other than that he was unscathed at least on the surface.

Mycroft pulled the chair nearer to his brother's bedside and sat down. He had only been sat there for a couple of minutes when Sherlock woke up, his eyes setting on something that obviously gave away the fact that he was in hospital and (whether he had other injuries or not,) he was already up and trying to get out of bed with some form of panic, bating away Mycroft's hands.

"No, Sherlock stay sti- Sherlock!" Mycroft almost shouted at his brother as he grasped a hold of his arm and gently, but forcefully laid him back down on his side again and looked for Anthea, but found her a moment later talking to a doctor -one who Mycroft recognised as Mike Stamford – before he turned his attention back to his brother.

"That was stupid." The elder commented.

"You know I don't like hospitals." Sherlock bit back, his tone not carrying any less irritancy in it than it usually did when talking to Mycroft.

"Well you wouldn't be here if you hadn't had a car accident."

"I wasn't even driving it, I'm fine."

"Just because you weren't the driver, doesn't mean you aren't hurt and need to be here to receive medical attention."

"John's a doctor. I don't need to be here when I've got him," Sherlock paused for a moment and began to look around for the blogger, "Where is John anyway?"

"Well Sherlock isn't that a good question," Mycroft replied sarcastically and the younger just glared at him, "He's probably here if he was with you earlier when the car crashed. Where was he afterwards?"

"Oh, like I know, I was unconscious Mycroft." Sherlock replied before noticing Anthea appear behind Mycroft.

"Could you find John Watson for us, please?" Mycroft asked before the woman in black disappeared again, tapping away on her Blackberry's keyboard as she did so.

The pair sat in silence for a moment before Mike walked over and greeted Sherlock before giving the same greeting to Mycroft.

"Can I sit up yet?" Sherlock asked, "I'm getting bored of only being able to see Mycroft in my line of sight."

"Like sitting here is a pleasure." Mycroft responded and Mike could only watch the pair begin another argument.

"Not yet Sherlock. I just want to check that you haven't got any other major injuries that need treating here."

"What about John?" The consulting detective asked.

"I've already seen him and he's fine which is why I'm going to be as quick as possible in getting you out of here."

"Good," Mycroft answered before Sherlock could, "The sooner he can get out of here, the sooner I'll here the end of this ridiculous dislike of hospitals."

"There are stupid things that you dislike though Mycroft, like-" Sherlock was cut off my Anthea's return and Mycroft (who had now breathed a small sigh of relief,) was extremely glad, even though he didn't show it on the outside. Following behind her were John and Lestrade who made their way over, looking perfectly well to Mycroft apart from a few cuts and bruises.

"How are the fingers Lestrade?" Sherlock asked as the pair stopped walking.

"How can you- I'm going to shut up." Lestrade started and finished his sentence without so much as a breath in between. But nevertheless, Sherlock had been right; he did have two broken fingers.

"Okay, John can look after me now, so can we leave please?" Sherlock asked, but he was once again told no and sighed.

Fifthteen minutes later, the five of them were leaving the hospital, all of them having fared rather well from the accident with the main damage being done to the family that had been in the black Citron that crashed into the taxi and red Vauxhall. Sherlock had pulled a few muscles that went along from both of his shoulders behind his sternocleidomastoideusm, but nothing serious and John was happy to look after the detective at Baker Street and knew that Mrs Hudson would also enjoy being able to have the pair of them home for a few days.

Mycroft and Anthea left once they knew that Sherlock was alright and wasn't going to nearly kill anyone about being stuck in a hospital.

"Right, we'll get a taxi to that crime scene shall we?" Sherlock said as they left and both John and Lestrade looked at him with a serious eye.

"No!" They both replied at the same time before John added something extra.

"You need to go home and rest." Sherlock sighed.

"You are both so boring. It must be so boring to be you. I would hate to be you-" And that was all they heard as they left the hospital, but none of them could help smiling at just how non-boring their lives truly were with knowing Sherlock.

* * *

Okay, I hope you enjoyed this. This was inspired by events that happened on Bank Holiday Monday and I want to write something else for Sherlock and so combined them. If you want to know what parts are based of real events then just PM me and I'll let you know if you are interested. :)


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